[author's note: hello hanna fandom! this fanfic was written in an AU in which Conrad and Worth are both highschool students; Conrad is a freshman and Worth is a senior. The original concept wasn't my idea, so please message me if you're interested in the other fanfics/fanart that inspired this! (they're quite good.)
Disclaimer: Conrad, Worth, and Hanna is Not a Boy's Name! belong to Tessa Stone.]
There's much to be said for a person when you see him basically everywhere you go. It's easy to pick up on things about people who are trying too hard to pick up things about you.
For starters, Conrad knew that Luce always got to school late.
He knew this because on one morning early in the school year, his gym teacher had decided for the class to run laps in the courtyard. It was a bit too bright out that morning. He'd excused himself to the nurse on account of stomach pain. On the long walk to the office he passed a lanky, sun-bleached boy simultaneously shoving the front doors to the school open with his shoulder and tugging the uniform sweater-vest forcefully over his head. He had no bookbag or necktie, and was wearing Chuck Taylors without shoelaces.
The taller boy stopped once he got inside and spat into a nearby potted plant; the instant he turned his head, he caught sight of Conrad. In the split second that they were staring at one another, Conrad got the feeling that in the other's mind, he had already been stripped naked and inspected from the inside out. This did not register as a normal feeling to get when seeing someone for the first time. So he hastily looked away and walked a bit faster than necessary to the nurse.
A few weeks later, Conrad had to leave a classroom where one girl's lunch was particularly garlic-heavy. The nurse's room was jointed to the front office, and as he was miserably stretched out on the cot he overheard an exchange between the guidance counselor and someone he thought he recognized:
"… sixth time in two weeks. We've been lenient with you, Mr. Worth, but this is getting ridiculous."
There was a throaty grumble from an older male student.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, 's only the fifth."
The woman cleared her throat, seemingly losing patience. Her voice grew hushed, and Conrad strained to hear. "Luce. Why can't you seem to make it to school on time? You've got the most absences on record for this year, sweetie, and it's only October. It's just inexcusable." There was a pause. Conrad imagined she was leaning in closer. "Are there … problems at home?"
What followed was a startlingly loud laugh; it was scratchy and almost barking, and somehow managed to sound condescending even though there was nothing to warrant it.
"Nothin' but a faulty alarm clock, miss. Piece o' junk car, too. Can hardly get it to crank in the mornings. If that'll be all, I really oughta get to Chemistry. Calculus, I mean."
Through the crack of the door, he caught a glimpse of blond hair rushing past, and heard rudely loud footsteps gradually disappear.
Conrad knew that Luce got a decent amount of calcium.
Only a couple of weeks after that, they came across each other at lunch. At the end of the line as always, he was impassively picking up a carton of milk to set on his tray. The lunch ladies were Nazis about having one drink, one main course, and two sides on your tray or they wouldn't let you through. It was a pain. He always spent the lunch period drawing and pushing the food around to make it look like it hadn't gone to waste.
"What if I wanted th' last carton of strawberry, Conrad?"
He wouldn't have turned around if he hadn't heard his name. "Huh?"
Luce was speaking to him as if they'd been acquainted for years. He looked down at him expectantly and arched a brow. "You're not even gonna drink it, anyway. Hand it over."
He plucked it from Conrad's hands as the younger of them tried to think of a snarky response. In the end, he came up with "W-well how would … you …"
Luce had already turned, and left to take a spot ahead of a girl who was conveniently looking in another direction.
"… know that." He realized what he should have been asking was why he knew his name.
Conrad knew that Luce had friends, and that he'd told them about him.
He was relieved when winter rolled around. It gave him a real excuse to wear long sleeves and pull his hood over his head whenever, heaven forbid, he had to walk outside. This was usually only for the short dash through the parking lot to the bus.
He hadn't realized that Luce drove to school until he was leaving one afternoon and noticed a slightly heavyset, dark-haired male lingering near a student's Porsche. This was alarming because that guy definitely didn't attend this school. Once he was a little closer, he noticed that Luce and a younger blonde girl were seated on the trunk of the car. They all seemed to be hanging out. They also all seemed to stop talking once they saw him walking by. Furthermore, Luce made some sort of gesture at him, and the other two started laughing. The expression that graced Conrad's face at this made them laugh even harder.
He pulled his hood farther over his head and started walking in a different direction.
Conrad could tell that Luce was fascinated by him.
By the end of the first semester, Conrad was no stranger to the front office. Instead of the nurse, this time he was scheduled for an appointment with guidance. His mother had gotten upset upon seeing that he didn't make Honor Roll last term, so she'd begun setting up appointments for him to get his transcript every two weeks or so. He sat sunken into one of the leather armchairs lined up outside the door to the counselor's, fiddling with his tie. It was eerily quiet until another student came tramping in and nearly fell into a chair two seats down.
He cut his eyes over to see who it was. Oh.
Luce was visibly annoyed. His arms were folded tightly across his chest and he was tapping his foot kind of obnoxiously (same ratty Converses). It didn't take him long to notice Conrad, though.
Their eyes met for a moment. Conrad's stoic expression did not betray his inner panic. He looked away; Luce did not.
"Whatcha doin' in here, kid?" he asked after another moment. His voice was rough.
Conrad still didn't turn his head as he glanced at Luce again. He decided it couldn't hurt to respond. "Grades."
There was that cackling laugh again. "Is that all?"
He simply nodded, and there was another minute of silence. You're going to have to keep talking. I'm not the one who keeps starting all this. He was itching to ask how he ever learned his name – but he was too stubborn to give in.
The foot-tapping resumed. Conrad knew that Luce was still staring at him. He could nearly feel the excited, nervous energy radiating from his left. It was almost flattering.
"Wouldn't imagine a kid like you havin' trouble with grades," Luce couldn't help but add. "Sleepin' in class or what?"
"No."
"Really?"
Conrad frowned and looked at him straight-on. "Really. What are you getting at?"
Luce's eyebrows shot up and he laughed again; apparently getting people agitated was hilarious to him. He didn't say anything else.
Conrad exhaled and studied the wall across from him again. He was almost grateful when the secretary poked her head through the door and announced, "Atchinleck?"
The blonde snorted. "Seriously?" he said to Conrad under his breath, and heard a wince in return.
Conrad knew that Luce's kisses tasted like ash and Coca-Cola.
It was early spring. He was not going to run a full mile outdoors in gym shorts. It was only overcast, but he didn't want to risk it, so he claimed he had an upset stomach and retreated to the locker room. The nurse had begun to get suspicious, so he hadn't gone there in a while. His P. E. teacher had already decided he was a hopeless case.
He walked over to his gym locker with the mindset that he'd go ahead and change back into his school uniform. He'd started to undo the lock when he jumped at the sudden slamming of a locker door on the other side of the room. To avoid a potentially awkward social situation, he paid no mind to the person now walking his way.
Until he heard, "Oy."
He had to look. 'Hi' seemed too companionable, so he settled for "Yes?"
"Whatcha doin' in here?" He felt like he'd heard that before. Luce was strolling toward him quite leisurely, hands in pockets, lips forming something between a friendly smile and a sneer. "Your class is outside."
Conrad swallowed and turned to face him. "You ask a lot of questions." Luce was only two feet away, leaning a shoulder against the lockers; his face read as a challenging 'so?' "I've got one for you. Who told you who I was?"
The senior shrugged and turned to look over his shoulder. For a second, Conrad thought he was just going to walk away, but then he looked back at him and cocked his head. Their height difference was suddenly painfully obvious. Conrad wasn't short, but this guy must be nine feet tall. "Oh, ya know. People're always askin' round about people they like." He paused. "Conrad Atchinleck."
He … hadn't been expecting that one. So he just said, "It's pronounced Achenleck."
When had Luce gotten so close? He stepped back. The older boy followed. This continued until Conrad was cornered. He'd thought he had this under control. Now he got nervous.
"I know that, Conrad," he nearly purred, "I know. Awright, it's my turn. Why're you always getting so sick? Not eatin' enough? You're in the office about as often as I am, for Chrissakes." He was probably trying to sound concerned, but it just came across as poorly masked, eager curiosity. Which it was.
He said nothing.
"Come on, Connie, you can tell me."
Actually, I can't.
Luce was tracing Conrad's jaw with a rough finger, and tilted his chin up to face him when he tried to turn his head away. "Not even now?"
They were practically chest-to-chest now. He saw that there was no way out of this one. Especially when Luce said lowly, "Well, I've got my ideas."
Conrad had never really been kissed before, only little pecks while playing spin-the-bottle, but he hadn't imagined it like this. The feel of an older boy's lips against his own was jarring, but at the same time, oddly fascinating; he could feel the stubble grazing his skin. His arms and hands were pressed lightly against the other's chest, and he wasn't quite sure if he was pushing him away or holding on.
Luce kissed him twice, three times, grew a bit more eager. It was all Conrad could do to reflexively start kissing back. He hadn't realized he knew how. His fingers were definitely curled into the fabric of Luce's sweater. He almost felt lightheaded. The lingering scent of cigarette smoke was nearly smothering him, it was on Luce's lips and on his clothes, but underneath it Conrad was aware of something sweeter – tangier? (Carbonated?)
And once Luce's tongue made it past Conrad's lips, something metallic.
Luce had dragged his tongue along a fang and made a noise that would have been some sort of – he didn't know, keen, or moan, even – and it was nice until Conrad realized.
No, oh, no way. He'd never felt so stupid in his life. Stupid, violated, guilty, afraid.
He tore away and rubbed his lips on his wrist, mangling the words, "Why did you – what was that for –"
"You know damn well why did I, what that was for." Luce's tone was unapologetic, condescending, amused. His arms on either side blocked Conrad from running off. "You knew. I'd asked, an' you wouldn't tell me. So answer this, kid. Why didn't you shove me off?"
No response. "Hm?"
Nothing. Luce laughed. "Don't worry about it. I'm not the type to, ya know –" he tilted his head meaningfully "—kiss and tell. This can be our lil secret."
Conrad was not reassured. "Guess you think you're a real genius," he ground out.
"Yeah, I guess so." Luce dropped his arms. "I mean, I was right an' everything."
"Just – can you just leave me alone." Conrad would have walked out himself if he had anywhere else to go.
Luce stretched and stepped back. "Well, if you say so, princess. Not for long, though, right? Seein' as we've got this secret between us an' all. I think we could have fun." It was hard to tell if he was just teasing. "I'll catch you around, Conrad Achenleck." He patted him quickly on the shoulder, grinned, and left.
Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, Conrad knew that Luce was too selfish to share secrets.